


2; temptation

by ralphstatortots



Series: george and alex [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, its uh. pretty explicit this time lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 04:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralphstatortots/pseuds/ralphstatortots
Summary: You are wearing one of my hoodies and nothing else and I’m pretty sure you are actually trying to kill me





	2; temptation

**Author's Note:**

> creative outlets are …hmmm…..a bitch to handle…..
> 
> also moving it from safe to mature in one swoop here lads, i changed the prompt a little too also im still a prat bc this is literally over 5 times as long as the last one smh
> 
>  
> 
> wattpad version for those that prefer it: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/164443745-prompts-list-memeulous-imallexx
> 
> my tumblr: https://presidentfuckboy.tumblr.com/

Merging a wardrobe was something that happened naturally. It’s rarely unusual for them to share clothes now when their styles are so similar to one another. It’s not a big deal either, not when Alex likes the shirts and jackets George owns that his own clothing selection lacks, and George likes borrowing Alex’s merch hoodies during the particularly cold days that Summer has left them with. 

Sharing a wardrobe – alongside sharing many other things – doesn’t mean they stray outside of their own colour palette often. George sticks to the darker colours he can find, while Alex is rarely seen in anything above the waist that isn’t whites or pinks. Which means it’s no surprise that the few lighter colours of George’s clothing soon becomes Alex’s by default, and he’s seen in them more and more frequently.

One of them he doesn’t recognise, however, is one Alex is currently wearing. While George had gone downstairs to retrieve their delivered groceries, Alex had somehow managed to wake up before noon (after spending over half the night editing) and was found sprawled across the sofa like he owns it – which, technically, he _does_ own half – and watching whatever British morning TV is on. The clothing overlaying Alex’s torso is a light pink, the same shade of pink as the ‘ _Internet Sensation_ ’ merch, with the same white text on the front. The only difference is that it displays George’s YouTube name in cursive print, rather than the block capitals he’s used to seeing on that colour hoodie.

“Where’d you find that?” George questions, filling the silence of the room that the TV couldn’t fill. “I don’t remember ever gettin' one in that colour.” He hears a shuffle behind him from his spot in the kitchen, where he’s putting away the shopping.

“Found it at the bottom of one of your drawers,” The other says. He’s looking at George from over the arm of the sofa, sleeve-covered hands cushioning his chin. “I didn’t even know you had merch in pink. It looks good.” Alex hums. He then smiles sweetly at George. “Can you make me a cup of tea?”

George rolls his eyes, but gets out a mug anyway. He ponders for a second while he waits for the water to boil. He _actually_ doesn’t remember getting that print of his merch, or at least not in pink. The only colours he ever remembers receiving are mostly black and a few odd white shirts. Either it’s one George doesn’t recall getting from when he was first making the merch, or it’s one Alex has bought but it landed in George’s end of the clothing. It’s not a big deal anyway; clothes are clothes he supposes.

Except he realises quickly that the hoodie seems to be the _only_ clothes that Alex is wearing. His legs are bare except for socks, bent at the knee slightly and stretched across the couch. But it’s hard to tell if there’s actually anything under the hoodie or not. George passes the mug to him and nudges Alex’s legs aside to sit down beside him. “You’re not telling me that you’re naked under that, right?” He jokes and Alex scoffs at him. He’s sat up slightly now with one foot in George’s knee and the other on the floor.

“ ‘Course not,” The hem of the hoodie is lifted to reveal he isn’t naked and is instead wearing black briefs that _only barely_ cover a quarter of his thighs. George feels himself inhale softly and swallow at the sight; it’s too similar to other ways he’s seen Alex on this sofa, and he’s thankful Alex doesn’t seem to notice his slight distraction at the sight. “I’m not that daft, George, people other than us use this sofa, y'know.”

Alex lowers the hem again to hold the mug with both hands, but it’s not enough to cover everything like before. “Please, like we haven’t done worse things on the couch than having your bare ass on it.” George scoffs back at Alex, who grins at him sheepishly. 

“Isn’t that exactly what’s happened, though?” The other jokes, hiding his grin behind his mug as he takes a sip. “Both of our ‘ _bare asses_ ’,” Alex air quotes with one hand. “Have been on it at one point or another.”

George laughs and lets a hand wander from its spot on the back of the sofa to Alex’s bare thigh. He hears a inhale and feels the jump of muscles under his slightly cold hand, and lets it move the hem of the hoodie back up to expose Alex’s waist and stomach. The foot previously on his knee moves to accommodate the change as George edges himself closer between Alex’s legs. “Think you might be right about that, mate,” George murmurs. He thumbs at a dip in the hip below his hand, letting Alex move when he leans over to place the mug on the coffee table. “Nothin’ like adding another to the list, right?”

When he sees Alex nod and lay back against the air of the sofa, he leans down to press a kiss to the other’s abdomen, the hand on Alex’s waist moving to press his fingertips into the softness of his thighs. There’s an exhale this time above George, a quiet curse accompanying it when he presses his lips just above the hem of the black briefs instead. His other hand dips under the bottom of the briefs, sliding the material further up the small amount of his thigh it covered.

“F’ fuck’s sake,” Alex breathes out, a mixture between a whine and a gasp tracing his words. “Y’ gonna just grope me all day and not do anything?” His tone is slightly frustrated and the way he fidgets underneath George’s hands is another telling sign. 

“Then tell me how you want me, mister, and I’ll see what I can do,” George tuts and emphasises his words with a squeeze to the other’s thigh. Alex’s eyes are screwed shut, a light groan slipping from his lips. It’s only when he looks down again that he sees Alex’s hand inside his briefs, pawing messily at the bulge concealed there; he can get too impatient sometimes, preferring to feel as good as possible, as fast as possible.

“Christ, Al, you’re gonna murder me one day… You wouldn’t believe how good you look right now.” George mutters and receives a hum and a twitching of hips in return.

“Can we get to murdering you another time? Because right now, all I want is for you t’ suck me off, George.” Alex whines. 

The hand not in his briefs moves from holding up one side of the hoodie to George’s face, fingers trailing along the corner of his mouth. When two fingers eagerly press against the line of his mouth, George doesn’t hesitate before letting them in and closing his lips around them. 

If he’s honest, he can’t deny that he loves blowing the younger man. Alex truly loses his mind whenever George gets his mouth on him, doesn’t know what to do with his hands and lets them wander as they please, has no filter on his words and lets anything that comes to mind spill free. Hands have to be pressed against his hips to hold them still because he always forgets not to squirm underneath George.

The fingers poke at his tongue and clumsily curl inside his mouth, letting George wet them until Alex pulls them out to rest them on his bottom lip. Without even so much as a glance, George makes quick work of shimmying the briefs down just enough to get Alex’s cock out with the help of lifted hips. He’s not fully hard, but it’s enough to show that he’s definitely affected by the situation. The fingers on George’s lip are fast to reach down and replace the other one, the coldness of the drying saliva coating his fingers making his legs twitch under the older boy.

Laying down between spread knees for a better angle that _won’t_ leave an ache in his neck for a day after, George nudges away the other’s hand and finds the head of his dick is glistening with a build of fluid. “You that excited that you’re already wet, huh?” He teases; words with a hint of taunting always did seem to make Alex embarrassed, yet always provoked a positive reaction. Which is exactly what happened when Alex presses a palm against his face, covering half the flush on his face and one of his eyes. His other hand, however, scrambled to George’s wrist to encourage a tighter grip. 

A soft sound emits from his throat when George does squeeze his grip slightly harder, the prolonged noise only interrupted by a heavy swallow. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” Alex mumbles half into his palm. “Y’were touching me everywhere, George – felt really good. Guess it just got me really worked up.” The redness covering his cheeks deepened.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Would’ve been more than happy t’ help you out, Al.” George grins at the other boy. He presses his thumb against the head of his cock, the wetness of it instantly catching on his thumb. The fingers wrapped around George’s wrist tighten.

“Didn’t want you thinkin'’ it was weird or whatever, having dreams ‘bout you.” Alex says with a hint of breathlessness to his words. “I have to film today too, didn’t wanna procrastinate or anything…” It starts to sound more like an excuse to cover up Alex’s embarrassment, despite his cock occasionally pulsing beneath his fingertips.

“It’s not weird or anythin’, don’t worry. Y’know I’ve had plenty of dreams about you, after all.” George reassures him. “But I don’t think your plan of not procrastinating worked very well. _Especially_ where you’re just in a hoodie, mate.” He teases again. 

Alex is just about to protest – probably about George’s lack of self-control and how he’s _wearing underwear too_ , as if that helps at all – but he’s cut off quickly when George lowers his hand to the base of his cock and licks at the tip, where more fluid has begun to build again from its previous disturbance. 

He repeats the motion a few times, taking in the strained noises Alex makes and tries to hide. It’s only when George closes his mouth around the head and reaches up to move Alex’s hand does he finally hear an unmuffled cry from the other. George’s own hands return back down to his waist, holding the slowly fidgeting hips down and feeling muscles jump below his fingers at the restriction.

Alex groans, threading his hand through George’s hair to encourage him to lower his mouth more. He’s a generous bloke and takes a bit of pity on the poor boy, so he does. George is rewarded with a huffed whine and a tightened grip on his hair and wrist. 

“Please George, I know you like to tease me but I really can’t take it, not after that dream, please _please_ ,” He’s babbling as if he’s been on the edge for hours and denied any relief, and it’s almost hard to understand Alex when he’s panting every other word. George pulls off and stroking along the wet half his mouth has been.

“You that desperate for it? That dream got you that wound up?” He questions and enjoys the view when the younger man gasps out a noise and wedges a leg restlessly between George’s own. “Must’ve been a good dream then; though, of course it would be if I’m in it.” He grins when he sees a smile grace Alex’s lips, but returns his mouth back to his cock to tongue along a vein.

“You’re so fuckin’ cocky, George, I dunno why I ever tell you anything,” Alex gasps. He moves a hand to George’s mouth to encourage it open, pressing his thumb onto the wet warmth of his tongue. “Good thing I know exactly how t’ shut you up, yeah?” George groans at that, muffled, when Alex guides his cock back into his mouth, the thigh between his legs enthusiastically pushing upwards in a way that feels _way_ too good against George’s dick.

Alex doesn’t usually take the reins very often – he’s too much of a wriggly little shit when it comes to being pleasured to handle any sort of level of command. But when he does, George is always happy to oblige by his terms. Right now, it seems to be that Alex less interested in any smart mouthed comments George can make and more interested in guiding his cock deeper into his mouth. If that’s what Alex wants, then George is all too happy to follow.

There’s a sharp inhale and a curse above him when he manages to swallow down Alex’s whole length, a nudge of his hips pressing forward as if he can get any closer. George doesn’t have much of a gag reflex when it comes to these types of things, and it’s a godsend during times like these. Which is why he moves his hands from Alex’s hips to push up the hoodie more to expose more skin, and Alex is instantly pulling back to shallowly thrust his cock back into George’s mouth. Alex certainly is a sight like this and a part of George wishes he could see it forever.

Having no gag reflex doesn’t mean it doesn’t get a little messy, though. Very soon, Alex is thrusting deeper and harder, groaning everytime George swallows to try and stop too much saliva from spilling from his mouth. It doesn’t help much, not when there’s already the thin stickiness of spit coating his chin and lines of it slipping between the gaps of fingers where they’re settled at the base of Alex’s cock. 

“Fuck, George,” Alex suddenly gasps, head throwing back against the arm of the sofa with a soft thump and eyes tightly shut. “Fuckin’ hell, mate, I’m gonna cum soon.”

He pulls off then; George has always felt a bit odd whenever he tries to have Alex release in his mouth, so it’s best for both of them to not even try. Strings of spit follow and fall from his lips, half landing onto the sofa cushion, but it’s paid little mind when he gets a hand back on the saliva-coated length to jerk the younger man off. The sounds his hand makes are wet and lewd, but it doesn’t stop his hips from eagerly pushing down against Alex’s bare thigh at the sounds. He’s thankful that’s he’s in shorts, otherwise George might be compelled to cry from the restriction of jeans, if he were wearing any. 

“George c’mere,” Alex says, strained. “Get up ‘ere, please, wanna kiss you,” He breathes, and God, if George could somehow deny that offer, he still wouldn’t. 

So he nods, clambers into Alex’s lap and tugs down his shorts enough to get his dick out and kisses Alex fervently. The other moans instantly as George gets them both in a wet grip and grinds down against him. Teeth dig into his bottom lip for a second before a hand settling on his nape and allowing Alex to kiss George deeper. 

In his grip, George feels the rigid thrusts along with the strokes of his hand as Alex slips his cock in and out, the shoves of his hips getting sloppier as he inevitably draws closer to release. George knows when he cums without even looking; he can feel the new wetness coating his fingers where the saliva had dried, feels Alex shuddering against his lips as quiet, broken noises slip from his throat. 

The older boy tries to follow quickly after, an eager hand now only holding his own cock and noises that aren’t his own still echoing in his mind. He doesn’t even realise he’s closed his eyes until he’s just about to come; Alex is staring at him with eyes half-lidded, eyes darting between his eyes and his slick mouth, hands holding the hem of the hoodie up again to prevent anything getting on it. When George does cum, his mind goes blank and the only thing he can feel is an intense spark in his abdomen as he thrusts into his own hold.

When George comes to his senses, he’s panting into the fabric covering Alex’s shoulder, the other boy cleaning them up with a tissue from the box on the coffee table. He hums and kisses the corner of Alex’s mouth, feeling the beginnings of a smile against his lips. 

When they’re both cleaned up and presentable, Alex sighs contentedly and tosses the dirty tissue onto the table. “You made my tea go cold.” He comments simply. His face looks drowsy, as if he could fall asleep again any second, which honestly wouldn’t surprise George. 

“I’ll make y’ another one, you brat, if you can even stay awake that long.” George laughs and runs a hand through Alex’s hair to smooth it back into its natural preferred position. The other rolls his eyes, but settles into the hold George softly pulls him into with a soft sound.

“But first, you got to tell me about this dream of yours, mister.” He says, immediately donning a grin when Alex groans, covering his face to hide to returned flush of his cheeks as George laughs at his embarrassment.


End file.
